


Six Times Things Were Stranger Than They Appeared

by juniperpines



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Post-eps, Senior Officer In Charge Of Feelings, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperpines/pseuds/juniperpines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe is weird; Deanna Troi is just living in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Times Things Were Stranger Than They Appeared

1\. The space jellyfish drifted away together out of the viewscreen, lovingly enmeshed. As the Enterprise made preparations to leave orbit of Deneb IV, though, they returned, lingering within a few kilometers of the port nacelle.

Word drifted around the ship as crewmen caught glimpses of tentacles through the viewports. The bridge crew would consider how close to allow the creatures to the ship and all of the associated risks, but Deanna was off-duty and chose to find an observation lounge to watch the spectacle.

“Counselor.” The android turned his entire head like an owl as she entered. “Is it not an unusual sight.”

“Yes, Data, it certainly is.” She took a place companionably at his side.

“Spaceborne biological creatures are of themselves a curiosity, but rarely in Starfleet records are there instances of species able to successfully navigate between a terrestrial environment and the vacuum of space.”

“That’s very true, Data.” Troi laughed gently.

“Is that not why you find them interesting?”

“In part, I suppose it is.”

Data considered that. “You indicated on the bridge that you felt strong emotions from the creatures. Perhaps you still do.”

“It’s faded a bit, but yes, they are still quite euphoric at being reunited. It is a very pleasant sensation. It is difficult to express in words.” Translating her empathic impressions into actionable intelligence for the captain was a new responsibility in this posting, and something she was still struggling with.

“It is a dimension of perception that I do not have access to, nor the ability to fully comprehend.” He turned to her, his head quirked in something like curiosity. “Counselor, would it be impolite to ask what you sense from me?”

“Not at all, Data.” She concentrated, and then frowned.

“I gather from your expression that you do not sense anything, but are hesitating to spare my feelings. Of course, there is little need, as you have just confirmed that I have none,” he said earnestly. “I hope it will not be an obstacle to a good working relationship between the two of us.”

“Why would it be?”

“I can only assume I am an empathic void to you, and that it might be… disconcerting to a member of a species who uses the emotions and feelings to make sense of those around them.”

She thought about it for a moment. The alien beings undulated gently. The sensors may never show it, but she could feel their ecstasy slowly growing again. It was sexual in part, but Deanna Troi thought it might be the purest sense of freedom, of the joy many species seemed to feel in acknowledging their truest selves, that she might ever be privileged to experience. “Data, you may not have emotions, but it does not mean that those around you won’t have an emotional response to you. For example, right now, I am enjoying your company. You are contributing to the emotional landscape of this ship, just as you are.”

“Intriguing,” Data said.

 

2\. The Acamarian girl was so servile in manner that even Deanna didn’t immediately see beneath her surface. Her mind was a dark pool of self-abnegation, almost an absence of ego, or of any kind Deanna could recognize.

Yuta was even different from the other Acamarians, something Deanna would have made note of had she not been distracted by the way Will Riker was taken with the servant girl.  Her long, conservative dress was the point of his fixation. He wanted to take it off, the long sleeves and high neck, the heavy skirt that hid lush, imagined thighs. In his mind he was refastening the heavy metal collar around her bare arched neck, its point angled downward between her pale breasts.

In reality Yuta was serving them a dish of her people, her head bowed and eyes cast down as she moved quietly near their table in ten forward. She was trained to be unobtrusive, to call no attention to herself. There was something illegibly alien about her mind, but her lack of worldliness seemed to be no artifice. Her shyness was charming to Riker as he tried to draw her out, though Deanna wondered if he would continue to pursue her, could he feel the depth of her unease under his direct attention as she could.

Deanna savored the spiced, bitter greens on her tongue. She tried to recall if she had ever felt Will attracted to someone so wholly submissive before. His tastes in women were fairly catholic, each one a new experience to partake in, just like he was imagining dipping his tongue into the slick sweetness between her thighs. Deanna began to feel like a voyeur as his fantasy became more explicit. She excused herself from the table, only allowing an inward shiver of pleasure once the doors of ten forward closed behind her.

“I should have known,” he told her days later after vaporizing the young woman, stricken with something not quite like grief, but heavy and regretful all the same. Deanna thought back, searching for traces of something sinister without success, and sympathized.

 

3\. For weeks after Doctor Crusher removed Locutus’ last implant, there was a new frisson of energy on board the ship, a cloud of sparks in the air, the occasional bright ghost of a dead collective that only existed as an echo in Jean-Luc Picard’s psyche.

Deanna didn’t know who to tell, so she told no one. No one needed to know that she found the feeling a little sad. She could rationalize her nonsensical reactions on her own.

 

4\. Beverly was practicing the ninth sequence of mok’bara by herself in the exercise room, one of the most challenging series that Worf had decided his human students were prepared to attempt. Deanna watched in the open doorway, admiring the smooth flow of her motions, the easy shift of her weight and balance from one position to the next as her limbs traced the ancient figures in the air, the estimable way she channeled her anger into the practice.

“I hear class is canceled until further notice,” Deanna said at last.

“Yes, that’s what happens when the instructor has to learn to walk again.” Beverly’s gaze was focused on the far distance -- the warrior’s realm -- as her hands completed the cycle. She let her arms drop and reached for her towel. “Is there something I can do for you, Deanna?”

“I hoped you would want to talk.”

Beverly wiped the sheen from the back of her neck. “There must be someone else who needs your time more than I do. Maybe a little boy who almost lost his father… or a Klingon who is still functionally paralyzed.”

“I’ve talked with them both, several times. I’m concerned about you, too. You can’t help Worf with his therapy while you’re still so angry about what happened.”

“Deanna. Not every passing emotion is a clinical case.”

“I know,” she said. Sometimes she felt like little more than a mirror people didn’t want to look into. “I thought you might want a friend.” She turned to leave, and Beverly grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean--” Deanna was well aware of the tight clutch of her elbow, the way their silence was growing, and Beverly’s pained feelings. “It frightens me,” she said finally. “You can’t be a medical doctor on a starship and also be a person without treating people you care about. I’ve had close friends slip away before… I’ve felt helpless, scared, out of my depth. But I’ve never played god with their lives. Against my advice, we held Worf’s spine in our hands, we watched him die and come back to life, we saw a little boy handed a miracle. When I had to tell Alexander his father was gone, all I could think of was Wesley, and how it would have felt for him to lose another parent, to be left all alone.” Beverly deliberately looked away. “And still... I’ve never been so angry to be wrong.”

 

5\. Deanna didn’t have time as it happened -- because sometimes the universe is just that ironic -- to process the sensation of casting Geordi off into another tributary of time. Her impression of him crystallized, flash-frozen, his terror perfectly preserved but without animation. It was like leaving a planet behind at a warp pace, or pushing off from shore, only without leaving at all.

She, Data, and Picard returned to the Enterprise with a plan of action. That plan was the only thing that made the forest of still figures and the faded snapshots of feeling in their heads a spectacle she could endure.

 

6\. The Klingon visitor had shied away from her all week, if a Klingon could be said to shy away from anything. That’s how it felt: slippery, evasive like an eel, never lingering long in rooms after she entered.

Deanna wondered if she should warn Worf, but of what? Worf was wary by default.

Between appointments, she decided to treat herself to late afternoon hot chocolate in ten forward and met K’mtar in the empty corridor. He strode toward her, paused, and lowered his large, ridged head to kiss her cheek with surprisingly soft lips. His breastplate clattered against the metal of her communicator. Before she could overcome her shock, he strode away.

She mentioned it to Worf after K’mtar left the ship, a late night confession with her head next to his on the pillow, her leg drawn between his, his fingers gentle against the inside of her knee. His mind was eely too, but he cleared it up over a cup of raktajino in the old city on Qo’noS ten years later, telling her how proud he was in the end that Alexander had chosen his own path of honor.

"When you told me, I contemplated whether I should take that as a sign of what the future would hold, for you and I," Worf confessed.

"And what did you conclude?" Deanna asked playfully.

"There was not enough information to make a judgment at that time."  When their cups were empty, they stood with some regret at parting, each needing to return to their duties. He accompanied her to the transporter pad, helping her up onto the platform through her mild protests that her condition was not so delicate.  With a half growl against the judgment of any of the young warriors standing in attendance, he kissed her gently and sent her on her way back home to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> "Encounter At Farpoint," "The Vengeance Factor," "The Best of Both Worlds 2," "Ethics," "Timescape," "Firstborn."
> 
> (Season two, when all was said and done, you could have been stranger...)


End file.
